


Ravens Don't Babysit

by crayolaparadise



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: And not by Adam, Babysitting, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Fluff for the Entire Found Family, F/M, Henry Cheng Wants a Favor, M/M, Okay only a little by Adam, POV Richard Gansey III, Post-The Raven King, Ronan gets drooled on, pynch - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-02-22 22:57:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23868388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crayolaparadise/pseuds/crayolaparadise
Summary: Henry shows up at Monmouth with a toddler. Noah thinks stale pizza crust is obviously an ideal entertainment. The Ravens can defeat demons, but can they keep a bucket of drool alive for two hours?Gansey is skeptical, but Blue is watching so here we go--
Relationships: Richard Gansey III/Blue Sargent, Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 13
Kudos: 83





	1. Is the Cabinet in Session?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AkisMusicBox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkisMusicBox/gifts).



> for baby KERAH

_ Is the Cabinet in session today at HQ? _

The message flashed on Gansey’s screen. A quick affirmative reply was followed by Henry’s equally rapid:  _ Excellent. Will be right up.  _

“Henry’s coming over,” Gansey said. Blue reached over and plucked a single mint leaf from the small plant on his desk, handing it to him without taking her eyes off the book nestled on top of her stockinged knees. Colorful mismatched patterns swirled up each leg, stripes on one side and paisley on the other. Gansey wondered absently if she’d actually stitched together two pairs of stockings or if they came that way. He blushed when he realized where his eyes had wandered in his musings. 

“What do the Chinese want with the President?” Ronan quipped from where he sprawled over the couch, a lanky spiderweb of ripped black jeans and long limbs clashing poetically with the dusty mop of Adam’s hair brushing against his chest. Adam smirked from his spot on the floor, surrounded by flashcards etched with Physics formulas. 

“It’s his other half that needs attention,” Noah muttered, gaining a whoop from the Lynch-Parrish peanut gallery. 

The doorbell interrupted Gansey’s rebuke. Blue looked up from her book finally at the sound. “Doorbell?” she said.

Gansey nodded towards Ronan, who’d slipped his headphones back on, choosing the route of ignoring Henry as a way to ensure he didn’t have to get up off the couch. 

“Useless dream thing,” Adam said, flipping over a card with  _ Moment of Force _ written in block letters. He frowned. “Rings every time someone comes to the door, whether they want to be announced or not.” 

Ronan smirked above him, his eyes closed. He was still except for his thumb, which was running in intricate tiny swoops on the skin just above Adam’s t-shirt. Gansey pretended not to notice. 

“It is nice to know when you’re about to be interrupted,” Gansey said. Ronan’s smirk deepend and Adam blushed. Gansey hurridedly clarified. “If I am reading, or writing perchance, I will have enough time to find a stopping point.” 

Ronan whispered something in Adam’s ear. Adam blushed as red as the faded Coca-Cola shirt he wore but kept his eyes focused on the Factors Determining the Turning Effect of a Force on an Axis. Blue giggled. “Stopping points,” she said. “Always important.” 

Henry pushed open the door just then, saving Gansey from himself. He looked every inch an Aglionby boy, spotless white sneakers, Tears to Fears teeshirt under a white trainer jacket, matching sunglasses perched just in front of his spiked hair. 

Every inch Aglionby except for the small thrashing child wedged up under his arm. 

“Mr. President, Madame Secretary, my good sirs-- what an excellent hideaway for the ministers of state. This place is astounding. Every inch a Gansey relic.” Henry walked in, ignoring the puerile kicks landing on his backside and the slack jawed faces surrounding him. Only Ronan seemed apathetic, though it was possible he just hadn’t noticed yet, too immersed in the screeching chords assaulting his ear drums and the feel of short cropped hairs on his fingertips as his hand wandered up toward Adam's hairline.

“Henry,” Gansey started, then stalled, not sure where to proceed after that.

Blue saved him. “Is that a child?”

“If you mean to ask, is this a real child or one of Ronan’s dream things, yes-- this one is real,” Henry said, hefting the squirming bundle inattentively. “It belongs to Mrs. Woo.” 

“Your landlady?” 

Henry nodded. “And it is every bit as charming.” Henry plopped the child on top of Ronan, who sat up with a curse. “One chemical weapon’s progeny tended by a demon.”

Ronan stared at the child, who stared back then promptly burst into tears, drool sliding out of its mouth and onto Ronan’s pants. 

“Gross,” Ronan and Blue said.

“Is it toilet trained?” Gansey asked. 

“Is it gendered?” Adam asked. 

Noah held a pizza crust out to the child, who hid from it. Noah waved the crust, making engine noises as he pushed it closer to the child’s mouth. It sealed its mouth closed, shaking its head vigorously. Ronan twitched beneath it, trying to extricate himself without letting the child know. 

“I really don’t think this is the proper place for a child,” Gansey began, waving his hand out over the wasteland of the first level for further explanation. Henry grinned at him, waggling his eyebrows as he waved his hand over the assembled crew. 

“I think it’s perfect. Edification and all that.”

“For us, or for him?” Adam asked from the floor. 

Ronan succeeded in extricating a leg with only minimal slobber, raising it up and over Adam’s head. He slid the other leg down, framing Adam. The kid rocked back on his heels, falling backwards against the arm of the couch. It looked around and promptly burst into tears. 

“See?” Henry said, gesturing at the couch menagerie. “He likes Ronan.” 

Ronan scowled at Henry, sliding his headphones off. “Shut up,” he said to the kid. “I can’t hear myself think.” 

“Your music is a billion times louder than that kid,” Blue said. 

“I choose the music,” Ronan said. He pointed at the kid. “That’s gotta go.” 

“Two hours,” Henry said, backing toward the door. “Thank you ever so much!” He clapped his hands together and bowed dramatically, then turned and fled. 

“What the--” Ronan growled. The kid cried louder, fat tears running down its chubby cheeks.

Adam reached behind him and grabbed Ronan’s headphones off the couch, sliding them over his own ears. His mouth moved silently, either reciting lyrics or formulas. 

“Gansey, get rid of it,” Ronan said. 

Gansey crossed his arms thoughtfully, examining the small child. “Henry  _ did _ say only two hours.” 

“No,” Ronan said. 

“Surely he must have a good reason.” 

“He can go screw a cow,” Ronan said. 

Blue stood up and dogeared her book, tossing it onto Gansey’s mattress. “We can do it,” she said. “I think.” 

Gansey cast about him for something to get the child to stop crying, suddenly aware of just how bare his living quarters were. Blue stood in front of his bare bed, not even a suitable sheet set for a blanket fort. Henrietta sprawled across the floor, a child’s dream and his nightmare should said child ever find it. He ran his fingers over his chin, looking down at the first floor in abject desperation. 

“Ronan,” Blue said, waving her hand in front of the crying child. “Any dream things in that pigsty you call a room this little guy might like to play with?”

“That terd factory isn’t touching my stuff,” Ronan said, still sharing a couch with the object of his derision, mostly because Adam still sat between his legs, his head nodding either to the beat or to the cadence of his inner fact recitation.

Noah waved the pizza crust again.

“How old is that, Noah?” Blue asked. 

Noah shrugged. “Found it under the couch.” Blue gasped, snatching the crust from Noah. She scrubbed her face, her hair escaping from its myriad clips even more with the movement. She looked wild and beautiful, and suddenly Gansey really wanted to prove he could handle the situation. 

“A walk,” he said. “Perhaps it would like to go for a walk?” 

  
  
  



	2. The Best Babysitter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, this was pure deliciousness to write.

“A walk,” Ronan scoffed. “Sure, take it for a walk. But that means someone’s gotta pick that thing up.” He glared at Gansey, booted feet firmly planted on either side of Adam. _It’s not going to be me,_ his posture screamed. 

Gansey’s regard flicked to Blue.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Don’t even think about bringing gender roles into this.” Her hand hovered over the pocket Gansey knew secreted her pink switchblade. 

Gansey chewed hard on his mint leaf. “You’re right; being a woman has nothing to do with being good with children.” Blue’s eyes went wide, glaring at him. Ronan smirked. “That is, just because you’re female doesn’t mean you know how to— should have to—“ He begged Ronan silently for help. 

“Go on, Dick,” Ronan said. “Should have to what?” 

Noah had faded away, and not for the first time Gansey wished he too could be ether. 

“Should have to come with me as I take this child on a walk,” he said finally, scooping the screaming kid up under its arms. He dangled it in front of him, a thick line of drool dangling in turn from its chin. “Right. Here we go. Two hours.” 

The door burst open again and Henry strode through, an overstuffed purple bag slung across his chest. “Paternal instincts developing beautifully, Gansey,” he said, slinging the bag into the floor. 

“Has it been two hours already?” Gansey asked hopefully, still holding his human bundle aloft. 

“Good Lord, no. Maybe five minutes. Put that thing down, it seemed quieter on the floor of my car.” 

“You drove here with the kid on the floor?” Blue gasped, moving to sit behind it. 

Henry laughed explosively but didn’t answer. Blue looked worriedly at Gansey, her mouth moving: _He didn’t right?_ Gansey shrugged. Blue rolled her eyes. 

“Thirteen,” Adam said, studying the flash card in his hand. 

Gansey sat the kid down, wiping his hands on his pants. Blue handed him another mint leaf. “Well then. Five minutes.” 

“Thirteen,” Adam said again. 

Gansey looked sideways at him. “Henry man, what do you suggest?” he said.

Henry shrugged. Blue took a mint leaf for herself. 

“He’s been here thirteen minutes,” Adam said, picking up another flash card. “Not five.” 

“How can you possibly hear with that blasting your brains?” Blue asked. Adam shrugged, his shoulders rubbing an immensely proud-looking Ronan’s knees. 

“Five, thirteen: we need a plan if we are to survive,” Gansey said. 

Henry snapped his fingers, pointing hand guns made of hands at Gansey. “Good man, keep the aim low. Survive, not thrive. So, what does the Cabinet suggest?” 

“You taking your rando drool bucket back and disappearing,” Ronan said. 

“I’m afraid that’s not an option,” Henry said with a smile. “His dad is gone.” 

Ronan and Adam stiffened. Gansey realized something about Ronan, about Adam, and about himself in that moment. 

"To the store," Henry clarified, clearing the darkness from the air. 

“Right,” he said. “Well then. A walk?” 

Blue sat on the floor, the neon green sports jersey she’d cut the sides out and retied with vibrant orange ribbon distracting the kid. It stopped crying and stared wide-eyed at her shirt. 

“Ronan,” she said, plucking the front of her shirt to make it move. The toddler cooed, but it’s pink and puffy eyes screamed how close it stayed to a meltdown. “Surely you have something.” 

Adam’s fingers pressed lightly on Ronan’s shin. Ronan stood with a scowl, whacking Adam’s head with his leg as he stepped over him. “Maybe. Don’t count on it.” He stalked to his room and slammed the door. 

Gansey threw his arms in the air. “Great. Very helpful.” The toddler scooted closer to Blue, climbing into her lap to ball her shirt in tiny grubby fists. She poked it gently on the side of its head, a small smile on her face. The toddler looked up at her and lunged suddenly for a pink butterfly clip. Blue shrieked as it ripped out clip and hair. The toddler fell backwards, startled. The sudden thump scared it into a full-blown tantrum, a mini-Henry or Henrietta made of flailing arms. tears and snot. 

“Ronan!” Blue called. “Quickly, please.” 

Ronan didn’t answer, but Noah did. He appeared at Blue’s side, then vanished. The toddler blinked, confused out of its tantrum by the flicker of skin and color. 

“Boo,” Noah whispered, materializing right next to the baby’s face. Blue grimaced and Gansey prepped a scolding but the baby giggled. Bright, chesty joyful noise making a snot bubble fill and burst. 

Noah grinned and disappeared again. The baby’s smile wavered; fell. He fell backwards to the floor in a dramatic tantrum. Noah met him there, thrashing and rolling about with a distorted looseness to his movements. For a sickening moment Gansey thought they’d lost him to his death and stepped forward to grab the baby but then Noah froze, arms splayed— and the baby cooed. Gansey rocked back on his heels, transfixed by the otherworldly game of peekaboo unfolding before him. 

“It makes a certain twisted sense that the best surrogate parent among us is the dead one,” Henry remarked. 

Blue wrapped her arms around herself. Gansey sat down beside her, his eyes still on Noah’s game, his arms draped protectively around Blue. She was chill to his touch; he nuzzled her ear, whispering, “How long?” 

Blue shrugged. “Not sure. He’s pulling a lot of energy to do this. But look,” she said, cocking her head at the pair on the floor before her as Noah burst into view in front of the toddler. “He’s so happy.” 

Gansey didn’t have to ask her which one she meant. His laughter filled the room, more lasting than his form as he flickered back out again. 

Henry settled onto the couch with a comment about the luxury of owning truly vintage furniture, “nothing could mimic the way the springs jab you in the ass.” He pulled out his phone and restarted the Final Fantasy VII game walkthrough he’d been bugging Gansey about for days. Blue leaned back against Gansey’s chest, her foot stretched out just far enough to Noah to touch each time he materialized. Gansey buried his face in her short hair, his nose rubbing against a shiny turquoise turtle clip holding up the wisp of hair beside her ear. 

Time passed quietly, punctuate by giggles. Blue shivered, leaning farther back into Gansey. 

“Your lips match your name,” Adam said. 

Noah’s smile was soft as he patted Blue’s ankle then disappeared. The toddler sat, chubby arms waving, staring at the spot where Noah had been. Adam stretched his legs out. The toddler looked about, rocked forward on his hands and knees-- and screamed. 

“Richard man,” Henry said, his phone still chattering away about Cloud Strife in a dress but his eyes on the cherubic screecher, “Plan B?” 

Blue turned slightly so her cheek pressed against Gansey’s chest, her hair tickling his chin. She yawned and pulled her legs up. Gansey smiled at Henry around his lower lip, snagged between teeth. 

“Right,” Henry said, shoving his phone in his pocket. “My lead. Do we have any sustenance on here? Something more nourishing than week-old crust?” 

“Should be some hamburger buns in the kitchen,” Gansey offered. 

Henry’s bottom lip stuck out but he nodded and strode off. The toddler pushed up on its stocky little legs and chased unsteadily after Henry. 

“Thirty,” Adam said. 

“Minutes?” Blue said into Gansey’s chest. “Or units of something.” 

“Minutes,” Adam said. 

Blue nodded. Gansey thought it may take Henry that long just to find the hamburger buns, if they were lucky. He could hear pots and pans banging in the kitchen, reassuring him that Henry was on completely the wrong track. The crying grew and faded as the toddler chased Henry around the kitchen, closer and farther from the door. A minute or so passed and Henry emerged, the toddler on his shoulders and his magnificent hair flattened. Gansey stifled a laugh. Adam didn’t. 

“Couldn’t find buns. Did find a set of clean wooden utensils, however. Hopefully clean, at least,” he finished as the toddler whacked him in the face with a spoon. 

“Genius. You weaponized the twat,” Ronan said, emerging from his room. “Give it to me.” He walked over and pulled the child down off Henry’s shoulders, blocking a wooden spoon attack with one hand as he settled the kid onto his hip. Adam slid off his headphones. 

The child stared at Ronan, eyes wide, bottom lip quavering as Ronan stared back. He reached a long, pale finger up and bonked the kid on the nose. “Jackass,” he said. The toddler blinked. Grinned. Ronan reached into his back pocket and pulled something out, holding it in his loosely closed fist. 

Adam stood slowly, flashcards sifting off his lap to the floor like falling snow. Gansey rubbed Blue’s shoulder, silently pointing for her to look up. 

Ronan held his hand up, letting the toddler unwrap his fingers one by one until his palm lay open. A butterfly quivered there, bright wings folded tightly. Ronan whispered in the toddler’s ear, the blow of breath and soft words making the child giggle with delight. The butterfly’s wings opened at the sound, their crystal patterns filling the room with an effervescent glow of reflected light. The toddler clapped, shoving against Ronan to be set down. He chased after the butterfly, it’s pace just slow enough to be followed but just quick enough to stay ever out of reach. 

Blue and Gansey gazed in wonder at the lights dancing on their ceiling. 

Adam gazed in wonder at Ronan. 

“Aurora borealis,” Henry breathed. 

“Auror-up your ass-is,” Ronan said, clearly pleased with himself. “Who’s the best babysitter now?” 

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
